


The Wrath of Morgana

by bloodamber



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e06 A Servant of Two Masters, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, Physical Abuse, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-05 09:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12792141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodamber/pseuds/bloodamber
Summary: A darker take on the episode‘Servant of Two Masters’(4x06), in which Morgana’s treatment of Merlin is far more brutal, and things play out a little differently...“I have such horrible things planned for you Merlin. You will long for death by the time I am finished.”Hurt/Comfort fic, with plenty of Merlin Whump.





	1. Sacrifice and Capture

**Author's Note:**

> Servant of Two Masters has to been one of my favourite Merlin episodes! I only wished they had given us more angst and hurt/comfort between Arthur and Merlin. But ah well, that's what fanfic for is right?
> 
> Enjoy!

He always knew that he could die like this, saving Arthur's life.

Part of him had always resented the idea. Resented that his great destiny amounted to living for someone else, using his powers in secret to save people that would have seen him imprisoned or killed. Even as he had watched Arthur grow from a spoiled prince to a strong king and, dare he say it, a loyal friend, he was scared to tell Arthur the truth about his magic. But he could no longer deny the fact that he would die for this man, destiny or not.

It had been those thoughts that had caused him to step into the path of the rider who had been bearing down on Arthur's vulnerable side, taking the blow that had been meant for his king. And it was testament to Arthur’s loyalty as a friend that he had pulled Merlin to safety instead of continuing the fight, refusing to abandon him even when in the most dire of situations.

Even now, facing half a dozen fully armed bandits, Arthur refused to back down even though the odds could very well kill him. Merlin’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears and he knew it would, once again, be up to him to save the king from his own obstinate bravery.

 _Bloody stubborn prat_ , Merlin grumbled in his head fondly before gathering the last of his strength to summon his magic, focusing it towards the space that remained between Arthur and the advancing bandits.

" ** _Gewican ge stanas!"_ ** He forced the words from a parched throat and felt his eyes burn with magic as the spell took effect, the cliff faces on both sides of the gully crumbling down like stale bread.

_"Merlin!"_

Arthur's desperate cry was quickly drowned out by the noise of the slip, the wounded warlock watching as his only form of rescue disappeared behind the giant rocks and boulders his magic had called down.

Almost immediately he fell back against the forest floor, exhausted after using such powerful magic when already in such a severely weakened state. The pain from his chest wound flared up again to an almost unbearable degree, every breath now feeling like an impossible task. Black spots began to dance across his vision.

He struggled to stay awake as the bandits moved around him, trying to make some sense of the words they were speaking. He thought he heard the name Morgana, but through the haze of exhaustion and pain, he couldn't be sure.

He felt the shadow of a man fall over him, before he was roughly grabbed and pulled onto the shoulders of one of the bandits. The sudden movement stretched his wound, but he could barely find the breath to groan in pain.

His eyes fluttered closed against his will as he began to lose the fight to stay awake. Yet, as he slipped into unconsciousness he felt content, safe in the knowledge that Arthur was still alive.

His destiny had been fulfilled.

 

**~ Morgana ~**

Morgana paced, her agitation plain to see.

Her carefully planned attack had failed. Despite the intel Agravaine had provided her, Arthur had gotten away, escaping into the forest before the battle had ended. Even now, after more than twelve hours of searching the surrounding forest, he had yet to be found.

In her anger she had decimated the forest surrounding her, trees reduced to piles of splinters and ash. Yet, for all her power, it seemed she was still unable to kill one man.

Once again she found herself wondering how it could be that Arthur managed to evade her every attempt on his life. How could it be that one man, without magic, was able to time and time again thwart her plans?

Another nearby tree took the brunt of her rage, catching alight and burning with unnatural ferocity. The men she had under her command scattered in fear and surprise at her sudden display of power.

_Pathetic._

No wonder Arthur got away when she was surrounded by such incompetence. She snarled in wordless anger, ready to turn her magic on the men surrounding her. Perhaps pain would make their minds sharper.

The sound of approaching footsteps distracted her and she watched Agravaine entering the clearing, watching as he hesitated before her, his eyes flickering nervously to the burning tree behind her, before he stepped to the side. Behind him were a handful of men, two of whom carried the limp form of a man between them.

She felt her spirits rise until the man – no _boy_ – was dumped at her feet, his red tunic and blue neck scarf mocking her with the knowledge that he was not the prize she had hoped for. It seemed, even unconscious, Merlin managed to foil her plans. She glared down at him distastefully before leveling her poisonous gaze at Agravaine.

" _What is this?_ " she hissed, her anger rising to the surface once again. The men around her flinched away in response to her acidic tone, already acutely aware of what her anger had done to the surrounding forest, and knowing now to fear her when in such a mood.

Something the wretched serving boy at her feet didn't seem to comprehend.

"I thought I told you to bring me the head of Arthur Pendragon. Instead you bring me his serving boy." She spat the last few words, kicking Merlin's unconscious body onto his back.

"There were…unforeseen circumstances, my lady." Agravaine bowed his head slightly in deference, knowing he would have to choose his next words carefully to avoid her wrath. "We had Arthur in our grasp, trapped in a gully, but a rock fall cut us off before we could capture him."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? I don't care for your excuses. I want results. I want Arthur dead and the throne of Camelot in my grasp, and that cannot happen if such incompetence continues." She grit her teeth in frustration, feeling the ever-present bitterness and anger rise within her after being thwarted of her prize once again. Now she would need to come up with a new plan to kill Arthur.

"I understand completely my lady, please tell me what I can do to be of service. I only wish to see you seated on the throne, as is your birthright."

"Right now, I want you back in Camelot. People will become suspicious if you are missing for too long. After all, if your true nature is revealed, I don't know what use I still have for you." She watched the flicker of fear cross his face as he understood her less than subtle threat.

"Please, allow me to remedy my mistake before I leave." He spoke earnestly, unsheathing his sword and moving to stand over where Merlin was lying, unconscious and vulnerable on his back. "I will dispatch this servant." He raised his blade to strike, when Morgana stepped forward.

"You will do no such thing," Morgana demanded sharply. Agravaine immediately retreated, confused but unwilling to make her angrier with him than she already was.

"But…I thought you wished him dead. The boy's a menace, you have said so yourself."

"That is precisely why he shall live, for now. His death should not be so quick when he deserves to suffer for the part he played in my sister's death. Besides, Arthur is strangely fond of the boy. He could prove useful. Very useful indeed."

She took a final look at the disheveled servant at her feet, observing with some satisfaction that he had been badly wounded in the attack, the front of his tunic torn and bloodied from a painful looking chest wound. It was a horrific sight, yet it would be nothing to what she had planned for him.

He would regret the day he first crossed Morgana Pendragon.


	2. Promises and Pain

**~ Merlin ~**

Merlin was no stranger to rude awakenings.

Over his years as Arthur’s servant he had been subject to more than a few creative wake up calls, usually when found snoozing on the job after a long night of saving Arthur or Camelot in someway. And they almost always involved something being thrown at his head.

So as far as wake up calls went, a bucket of cold water in the face was not the worst he had suffered. Yet it was by no means pleasant either, jolting him awake with a gasp that had his whole body twisting in a very unsuccessful attempt to avoid the offending liquid.

Merlin let out a low groan as his body protested against the sudden movement, multiple aches and pains making themselves known. He wondered what had he been doing before he fell asleep that made him feel like horses had trampled him but the answer was elusive. His head was pounding and his mouth was uncomfortably dry making concentrating on anything, then how terrible he felt, much harder than usual. The last thing he wanted to do was open his eyes but he just knew Arthur would resort to more drastic measures if he didn’t show some signs of wakefulness.

Grudgingly he cracked his eyes open, blinking a few times to clear them of water, before his vision was clear enough to allow him to glare at Arthur. He opened his mouth to insult him in some creative way, but the words died in his throat as his brain caught up with what he was seeing. 

Morgana stood before him, wearing a twisted shadow of a smile, holding a now empty bucket in her hands. Any lingering drowsiness and confusion dissipated as he lurched into full wakefulness, his mind immediately on high alert as he assessed his current situation.

He was in a small shack of some kind, poorly constructed and in serious need of repairs. The ceiling was low and the floor made of compacted earth. Rickety shelves lined the walls and a table was set up in the middle of the floor, not far from a stone hearth that held embers from a dying fire.

He would have taken the chance to look around further but was hindered by the ropes that bound his wrists painfully above his head, securing him to a rather sturdy beam of wood that did not seem likely to give any time soon. His shoulders were already aching fiercely at the weight they were forced to support as he dangled, his feet barely able to brush the rough earth floor beneath him.

He also realized he had been stripped of everything but his threadbare trousers. The observation made him feel more vulnerable than ever as he hung, almost naked, at Morgana’s mercy. He felt himself shiver under her scrutiny and at the cold water that still clung stubbornly to his skin.

“Good morning Merlin, sleep well?” Morgana asked, finally breaking the tense silence. Her voice was laced in the same deceptive sweetness she had grown so adept at using during her time as the double agent within Camelot’s walls. 

Her words had him pause.  _ Morning? How long had he been unconscious? _ He had definitely been out for quite a while and had to wonder why she had allowed him to sleep so long, or keep him alive at all, for that matter. 

“The best sleep I’ve had in awhile, thanks.” Merlin rasped through his dry throat, matching her tone while trying to figure out why exactly he was still alive and concluding that whatever the reason, it would not be good.

“Good, you will need your strength for all the fun I have planned today.” Her eyes lit up in a way that had a sick feeling grow in his stomach.

“I don’t feel much like having fun with you Morgana.”

“Now, now. Don’t be like that,” she scolded him with a pout. “I think I deserve a little more respect after graciously hosting you for the night and taking care of your wound.”

As soon as Morgana mentioned it, Merlin felt a steady throb of pain radiate from his chest. He looked down and finally saw the full extent of the injury he had suffered at the sword of a bandit. Just above his heart was a deep gash that spanned from his left armpit across to the middle of his chest, exactly above his heart. The skin around the wound still looked swollen and angry but the gash was clean and there were no signs of obvious infection.

_ So she needs me alive, most likely to extract information about Arthur and Camelot’s defenses, _ Merlin concluded, trying to remain calm at the thought of being tortured. It wasn’t as though he was a stranger to enduring pain and suffering in his service to Arthur and he was confident that no matter what Morgana did to him he would never betray the trust of his King and kingdom.

“Well, I have to say your hosting abilities are lacking. I can’t imagine anyone staying long if they have to put up with such dreadful accommodation.”

“Well you better get used to it. We have a lot of catching up to do. After all, I haven’t seen you since you condemned my sister to a slow and painful death, thwarted my plans to take over Camelot and forced me to live in a hovel.”

“Some of my finest achievements.” Merlin spoke proudly, “If I do say so myself. Although Arthur still seems to think of me an underachiever.”

“You won’t be quite so boastful once I have finished repaying you for each of those ‘achievements’.”

“Oh, and I’m sure you want information too? Is Agravaine that incompetent a spy? Oh yes, I know about him. It was obvious…he really is quite shifty.” He grinned when he saw a vein begin to throb in her template, knowing her was getting under her skin and hopefully planting the seeds of doom for Agravaine. He needed to go so he could stop poisoning Arthur with his council.

“You were always far to observant for your own good Merlin. But I know you won’t give up your secrets. You’re far too  _ loyal _ for that. Pathetic really, you follow Arthur round like a dog, but he never appreciates what you do – what you have done for him. You are beneath him, just like you are beneath me and I will enjoy beating you down until you know your place.”

“Don’t think you can fool me with your poisonous words Morgana, I know my own worth and I know my place. It is at Arthur’s side, saving his royal backside from people like you. I can die happy.”

“Oh, you’re not going to die. Oh no, I’m not going to make it that easy.” She leaned in closer and Merlin tried not to flinch away from her unwanted proximity.

“I have such  _ horrible _ things planed for you Merlin. You will long for death by the time I am finished.” Pulling back she smiled at him, baring her teeth in the mockery of a smile, a sight that disturbed him more than anything else.

Merlin shivered, and this time it was nothing to do with the cold.

 

  
**~ Morgana ~**

Morgana felt her grin widen as she watched the boy before he shiver. For all his bluffing and bravado she could see the fear lurking beneath and she couldn’t wait to pull it out, one scream at a time.

Turning away, she walked to the table she had cleared and began to lay out the instruments of torture she planned on using, remembering the lessons her sister had taught her about inflicting pain, both through physical and magical means.

She took time to arrange her gruesome collection, wanting Merlin to see exactly what she had planned as he waited, bound and at her mercy in horrified anticipation. Waiting would make what came next so much sweeter, and she was eager to make this last as long as possible.

Because once she had broken Merlin – and she would  _ break _ him – her fun would be over. There was no joy to be had in torturing something already broken, but perhaps she could send his body back to Arthur. A gift for the King before his own death.

Deciding she had left him waiting long enough Morgana selected her first method of torture, a simple wooden switch made from birch and magically strengthened to inflict agony at even the softest of hits.

She turned to face him and watched as he eyed her warily as she approached. Walking past him, she couldn’t help but trail the end over his bare and mostly unblemished skin delighting in the flinch it brought, looking forward to every mark and scar she would carve into his pale skin.

Positioning herself behind him, deliberately out of his line of sight she purred into his ear.

_ “Shall we begin?” _ __  
__  
  


**~ Arthur ~**

Arthur sat in his chambers, barely noticing the passage of time, as he stared down at the bloodied scrap of cloth lying in his palm. 

After more than half a day of searching, it was all his knights had managed to recover of Merlin. The discovery of so little had shocked Arthur. He had been confident that his knights would return with Merlin, alive and safe. But Agravaine’s murmured condolences had forced him to consider the possibility of Merlin being dead.

He felt strangely numb at the thought. It seemed impossible. After so many years of death defying quests and battles he had grown used to the almost constant presence of the annoying, gangly man at his side. He was, in some ways, the most reliable companion he had.

He could remember, with horrible clarity, the last time he had seen Merlin. He had looked as though dead lying among the ranks of bandits on the other side of the gully. He had been prepared to fight off every single man to ensure both he and Merlin would survive but had been forced into retreat at the start of a sudden rock fall that had cut him off completely.

That moment had haunted him ever since, despite knowing nothing could have been done to change what happened. It wasn’t his fault that the gully walls had decided to crumble down at that exact moment…

Yet he still couldn’t shake the guilt that permeated his thoughts and had him morbidly linger on what fate had befallen Merlin. It seemed likely that the bandits would have taken their frustrations out on the servant, perhaps even killed him in their anger at having lost him, as the bloodied piece of cloth in his hand suggested.

He had tried, at first, to climb over the rock wall that had formed in the gully. But after his third failed attempt he retreated, continuing through the gully in hopes of finding a path that would lead up back into the woods and enable him to double back to find his friend. By late afternoon he had began to lose hope in ever finding his way back and only abandoned the search when he was found by his own knights, knowing he had duties to perform as King and the disturbing news of a traitor within their midst that he had to investigate. Someone who had given the bandits their travel route and caused the battle that had lead to the loss of his manservant.

He was startled out of his gloomy thoughts by the sound of chamber doors opening. He quickly straightened his back and let the kingly mask slip onto his features, hiding all traces of his previous worry and guilt.

It wouldn’t do for his uncle, or any other court official, to see him in such a state. Not over what they would consider a mere servant, and not when they were expecting him to lead Camelot and prove himself as their ruler. He had to squash down the anger at having to hide his true feelings, to act impassive in the face of everything lest he make himself appear weak.

However, it was only Gwen who appeared at the entrance to his chambers, pausing as she waited for him permission to enter fully. He nodded his accent, letting out a small sigh before letting his shoulders droop and the mask to fall from his face.

He did not feel like pretending more than he had to and Gwen was one of the few people who shared in his loss of Merlin, even though he would never admit to his feelings out loud.

“Arthur, I brought you some food.” She spoke softly and he could see the reflected sadness in her eyes and she laid the tray of food before him.

“You didn’t have to.” He replied, looking at the food without feeling a pang of hunger.

“Yes, I did. I have been told you are refusing to eat.”

“What? No I haven’t…” He looked around at his surroundings properly and noticed two more trays of food, sitting on a small table nearby, the plates of food now long cold and beginning to congeal.

“When did those get there?” Surely he would have noticed a servant entering his chambers…

“When they usually do.” Gwen answered, looking at him with increased concern.

“How did I not notice? Merlin is usually so clumsy when he–” Arthur cut himself off abruptly, swallowing thickly against the rising sense of loss, looking down again at the cloth in his palm and slowly closing his fist over the fabric.

He wasn’t sure how long the pause lasted until he felt Gwen’s gentle touch on his shoulder.

“They will find him Arthur. You know they will keep looking till they find him.”

“I should be out there. I should be looking too, I need–” He rose out of his chair, intent to leave immediately, but a stern look from Gwen had him freezing in place.  _ How did she do that? _

“What you need right now, Arthur Pendragon, is to sit down and eat your dinner. Then I expect you to go to bed where you will actually rest.”

“Are you ordering me Guinevere?”

“Yes. Well someone has to when you get in this state.” 

“What state? I’m not in a state!”

“You are and always go into one when things like this happen. Its like you can think of nothing else until you solve whatever problem has cropped up. You act like you are alone in solving it and forget to look after yourself in the meantime. I think the only reason you don’t starve in those times is because Merlin forces you to eat. But he isn’t here so I have to make sure you do in his stead.”

“How can you expect me to eat and sleep when Merlin is still out there, wounded and dying?”

“What use are you going to be tracking and saving him if you are exhausted and hungry? He would not want you to neglect your own needs for him, not when it could get you both killed.” She put her hands on her hips in an action that brooked no arguments and he felt a surge of affection overtake him at her strength.

“I…I guess I could sleep for a few hours before I ride out.” Arthur conceded, but still felt conflicted, the urgency to find Merlin not waning in the slightest.

“ _ And? _ ”

“And…eat my dinner?” Arthur guessed, feeling immediately like he was a child being scolded by his parents. How Gwen managed to make him feel this way he wasn’t sure but he dutifully started eating until the plate was clean and then readied himself for bed as she took away his dirty dishes.

As soon as she left he contemplated sneaking out to begin his search but a yawn immediately split his focus and he knew that without at least a few hours of sleep it would be a wasted effort.

Curling under his blankets Arthur’s thoughts returned to Merlin, and he rubbed his thumb over the piece of cloth still clutched in his palm. 

_ I will find him, _ Arthur vowed to himself.

_ Just please, let me find him alive. _  
  


 

**~ Merlin ~**

_ Later _

Merlin hung limply from his bonds, on the verge of unconsciousness yet unable to find the rest his body craved.

His back felt like it was on fire, agony rippling down his spine at every small movement he made. He could feel the areas of flesh where the skin had been ripped off and hear the drops of blood hit the ground from where they ran down his back and legs onto the floor.

He had known at first contact with the wooden switch that it had been magically altered. He could sense the oily residue of dark magic upon it, unable to suppress the flinch when he had felt it resting against his skin.

But his observation did nothing to prepare him for the absolute agony that overtook his mind when Morgana brought down the switch across his back. As the wood had bitten into his skin it felt as though it was carving into the very core of his being, ripping him apart one lash at a time and leaving him in tatters.

Screams had been torn from his throat with brutal efficiency until his voice grew hoarse and gave out completely and he could taste blood on his tongue. 

But through it all Merlin hadn’t begged. It was small consolation against what he had endured but it was enough to reinforce Merlin’s will not to let her break him. The cost was too high considering the secrets he kept hidden.

He looked up through his sweat soaked hair that was hanging over his face to find Morgana hadn’t moved. She had been watching him for a while now, he could feel her stare on him and wondered, not for the first time that day, what had happened to the gentle and compassionate girl he had first met in Camelot. He had seen the expression of gleeful anticipation that had overtaken her features as she had approached him with the switch and her laughter had mingled with his screams.

She caught his eye and moved from her spot by the fire to stand closer to him. “How did you like your first day in my company Merlin? I do hope you enjoyed yourself. This is just the start of the fun I have planned.”

Merlin tried to speak but found his throat too raw to give anything but a hoarse wheeze. Morgana seemed put out by the lack of response and raised her hand, mutter words that had her eyes flash gold and a warmth spread through Merlin’s throat, so blissful in its sensation he almost wept in relief before the agony in his back returned to the forefront of his mind.

“Your methods of entertainment are rather lacking.” The warlock replied, feigning casual indifference even as he grimaced in pain.

Morgana only smiled sweetly even though her eyes burned with rage at his continued impudence. “Joke while you still can Merlin, you will have little to laugh about soon enough.”

The warlock felt the fear in the pit of his stomach grow at the thought of having to endure worse than what he had already gone through but refused to dwell on it for more than a few seconds before responding.

“Arthur will know I’m still alive.” Merlin spoke boldly, not giving her the satisfaction of watching him cower in fear.

“And you think he will spare time looking for you?” She sneered back. “A mere servant, who he never really liked to begin with. I doubt he would mourn you for more than a few seconds before replacing you with someone far more competent.”

“You clearly underestimate his character then. It’s a surprise that you ever knew him at all.”

“It doesn’t matter whether he values you or not, he won’t believe you are alive for much longer, I was sure to leave some souvenirs of our time together.” She held up his tattered brown jacket, indicating where a chunk of it had been ripped away. It was one of the areas that had been covered in his blood and he knew how it would look to Arthur.

Merlin felt the first notes of panic spark in his chest when he realized his chances of being rescued had fallen drastically. He had no idea how far out from the city he was or how much priority he would get when Arthur would have his hands full running the kingdom, especially when such evidence would point to him already being dead.

“You are finally getting now aren’t you Merlin. No one is coming for you. You are mine, to do with as I wish.”

He had no reply for that but Morgana didn’t seem to need one. As she turned from him he felt the pain and exhaustion finally catch up with him and finally, darkness claimed him.


	3. Suffering and Discovery

**~ Merlin ~**

For the second day in a row Merlin was woken with a bucket of cold water to the face. He groaned as he was pulled harshly back into consciousness, the throbbing agony of his ruined back entering the forefront of his mind once again. 

Moments later he felt of the cold caress of a knife against his cheek, tracing his jaw and throat with sadistic intent and he held as still as he could in his bonds wary at what she would do if provoked. He struggled to focus his eyes but the lingering water and the pounding in his own head left him with only the distorted image of a twisted smile.

Licking his lips nervously, collecting what moisture he could, he waited for the mocking words and false sweetness that Morgana wore like a mask. Instead he felt the sudden sting of a knife as she dug the edge into the side of his cheek. A shallow cut, hardly painful, but enough to cause a small gasp of surprise to escape. Her smile widened in response and he bit down in his lip to stifle another gasp when she repeated the action on his other cheek, denying her the satisfaction.

A few more lazy cuts were then traced along the column of his throat and across his collar bones. Sometimes the knife would dig in a bit deeper or linger but when those failed to get a response Morgana's smile turned sour.

“There is no point in acting brave Merlin when we both know you will soon be screaming. You should know by now that I am very skilled at inflicted pain.” She had moved around his body while speaking and had begun to lightly skim the knife across the raw skin of his back.

Merlin panted, twitching slightly in his bonds as the sharp edges caught on torn flesh that had barely had a chance to heal. It still felt as raw and painful as when the wounds had first been inflicted and he knew that without proper medical care they would become infected before too long. He had seen enough knights suffer from infected wounds much less severe than what he had and the results weren’t pretty.

Merlin wondered how long he would be able to stand Morgana’s personal brand of torture before he succumbed to his wounds. As willing as he had been to sacrifice his life for Arthur during the attack he was afraid of dying when his last memories would be of pain and suffering at the hands of someone he once considered a friend. His only other option at this point would be using magic to get out of his situation. 

He knew that despite his desire to keep his gift a secret at all costs he wouldn't have much of a secret to keep if he was dead. The only problem was that it had felt strangely absent since he had woken up the previous morning. The familiar warmth within him was muted, it’s presence within him not unlike a deadened limb. He reached for it while Morgana was out of sight, just to reassure himself, but found the effort of trying to call it forth made him feel shaky and sick. But the feeling of utter helplessness that followed in its wake was even worse. It meant there could be no clever escape, no trick up his sleeve to ensure his survival - and that terrified him.

His horrific realisation was interrupted when Morgana lost interest in his back and stepped around to face him again. The knife trailed gently along his rib cage and up to rest above his heart where the ugly gash resided from his run in with the bandit's sword. Leaning forward, she pushed the knife into his exposed flesh, twisting the tip until it pulled a pained groan from him and watching in rapt attention as blood began to well up and trickle down his chest.

Merlin bit back his distress as best he could as she continued to carve into his wound, but let out a scream of pain as Morgana abruptly bore down on the blade, the tip of the knife disappearing into his flesh deep enough to scrape his bone. His body twisted ineffectually in its bonds but she just bore down harder and twisted more vigorously.

By the time she was done the straight gash had become a mangled mess and blood ran freely down his chest staining his trousers and joining the dried blood from yesterday on the dirt floor. Stepping back to admire her handwork Morgana pouted in an over exaggerated way.

“Oh dear Merlin, your chest wound has opened again. You really ought to try not moving so much!”

“I’ll try to remember that next time you're torturing me, thanks.” Merlin retorted, voice hoarse from screaming but his tongue not dulled by her torture just yet, it being the only weapon he had left at his disposal. He felt woozy with blood loss and nearly delirious with pain and that made him want to fight back with anything he had left. 

Morgana growled in response, the noise disturbingly animalistic. He mustered a smile then and she glared at him for a long moment before a wicked gleam entered her eyes. A mumbled spell and golden eyes was all the warning Merlin had before pain swallowed his senses once again, his chest blistering under a hand that was now as hot as a branding iron. 

He could feel his skin burning, raw flesh underneath turning black, her magical energy forcing its way into his very soul and corrupting everything it touched. He felt paralyzed with the absolute all consuming  _ agony _ of it, seconds stretching out until he could remember nothing, understand nothing, but the pain of her touch. He didn't even notice when she ceased her torture, only a gradual awareness of his surroundings as his mind refocused.

“I think that just about sealed the wound, don’t you?” Morgana was content to fill the silence as Merlin gasped for breath, eyes rolling back in his head as he sought the relief of unconsciousness that hovered just out of reach. Instead he was jolted back to his dismal reality when Morgana grasped his face harshly, long ragged fingernails digging into his flesh.

“Oh don't think you can faint on me now Merlin. The morning is so young and full of promise.”

When he failed to respond his face was given a harsh shake until he managed to bleary focus on her again while fighting the wave of nausea that threatened to engulf him. The pain in his back now felt like nothing compared to the blistering wound Morgana's touch had left behind. He could still feel the imprint of her magic against his flesh like a brand.

Satisfied at his continued awareness she released her hold on his face and stroked softly down his cheek, tracing the cut she had made earlier. Merlin didn't even have the strength to flinch away and she repeated the action with the other cheek before her fingers moved down to probe at the edge of the burn she had just created. That was enough for him to finally lose the battle with his stomach and he gagged against the bile that was forced up his throat, his stomach empty of anything else. Morgana took a step back in disgust and he felt thankful for her distance while he struggled to cope with what his body was being forced to endure.

She gave him some space after that, content to let him suffer in peace while she prepared a small meal for herself. He felt his stomach cramp at the smell of freshly stewed meat, both in longing and disgust. He knew he should be desperately hungry but with the smell of his own burnt flesh still lingering in his nose it only served to unsettle his stomach more. It was doubtful she would be feeding him anyway. The suffering she inflicted upon his body indicated his wellbeing wasn't a priority. Yet he stared transfixed by her actions as they provided a welcomed if not completely effective distraction his pain.

.

His break was short lived once her meal was completed. He had been in a daze of pain, slipping slowly into unconsciousness when he felt her hands against his body again, her touch invasive as she petted him with a familiarity that left his skin crawling. A few minutes passed in this fashion before she broke the silence, pinching his side to get his attention.

“You know there is one thing I don’t understand Merlin. You’re Arthur’s servant, nothing more. Yet, time and again, you’ve proved yourself willing to lay down your life for him.”

“I don’t expect you to understand Morgana.” He started speaking before his brain could catch up with his mouth, voice hose but thick with pity at her apparent lack of understanding.

“Enlighten me then.” Her words were a challenge and despite his best interests to stay silent he found words pouring from his mouth from where they had been bottled for so long.

“You have no sense of duty, no sense of loyalty. If you did, you wouldn’t need to ask.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Don’t think I don’t understand loyalty just because I have no one left to be loyal to.  _ You _ made sure of that.”

“Me? It is your own fault for you pushing everyone away who loved you to join Morgause and her destructive regime.  _ We _ were your friends. What happened to make you to hate those you had once been so close too?”

“Coming from the person who poisoned me.” She hissed in his face even as her posture became defensive.

“That was to save Camelot! If there had been another way I would have never hurt you and for what it's worth I regret my actions more than I can say. If anyone was to blame it was Morgause for connecting your life force to the spell.”

“You know nothing of my sister or the bond we shared,” snarled Morgana. “I was doing what I knew to be right by ridding Camelot of the evil influence of Uther’s destructive reign.”

“You would have replaced one tyrant for another. Morgause might have been your sister but she cared nothing for you beyond your usefulness to her. She took you and turned you into a weapon, a monster of her own own creation!” He knew he had struck a nerve when a hand yanked harshly in his hair pulling his head back and the knife in Morgana’s hand flashed up towards his face, stopping inches from his right eye. Merlin flinched at the obvious threat but was unable to do anything.

“Enough of your lies! You talk as if you know me and the struggles I have been through but you never knew me as I truly was, a scared lonely little girl frightened of her own dreams. A gift that might have been my death. I finally have power to fight back and will use it to make anyone who persecuted my kind tremble before me.”

Merlin wisely remained silent in the wake of such an outburst cursing himself and his tongue for landing him in more trouble. He could feel Morgana’s magic writhing around her in anger and the current position of her knife had him swallow any responses that would have come out.

“Trust me when I say I will make you suffer for every moment of agony she had to endure before I end your miserable existence.” Her vicious expression smoothed after spitting the words and it served to terrify Merlin more than her anger.

“Arthur has lost his favourite pet servant, perhaps I should give him a piece back.” It took a moment for Merlin to comprehend the meaning of her words only truly understanding the implication when she brutally grabbed his right ear and sawed it off. His shout of panic quickly turned to a scream of agony, feeling fresh blood pouring from the wound down the side of his neck and shoulder.

The action was so quick that Merlin was left in shock staring at the ear - _ his ear _ \- that now sat in the palm of Morgana's hand before the pain hit anew from this fresh mutilation.

Then all he could do was scream.

 

**~ Arthur ~**

Despite his exhausted state, Arthur’s sleep had been patchy at best. As soon as he noticed light peeking over the horizon he abandoned his bed altogether, wanting to take leave of the castle before the first bell to search the forest for any signs of Merlin or his captors.

He dressed sloppily, not bothering to pull on anything more than a pair of breeches, plain tunic and leather jacket before exiting his chambers. He skipped breakfast altogether wanting to be gone before anyone could demand his time with tedious duties and kingly demands. Creeping through the deserted hallways and out into the fresh morning light Arthur missed the freedom his title as prince had afforded him. When he had be able to go where he wished with minimal fuss and bother. Now he was accosted by council members on a daily basis or pulled into meetings that would discuss petty grievances and problems without actually doing anything about them. 

No, Arthur had concluded that he was a man of action. It was past time he took matters into his own hands to look for Merlin and determine once and for all the fate of his man servant.

His path to the stables took him past the training grounds and it was there he noticed a lone figure practicing their sword work against a wooden dummy. The strikes were rough and sloppy, and Arthur gathered it must be one of the new recruits getting some extra training in. 

Only once he got closer did he recognize the person to be Gwaine, the dark haired knight looking as haggard as Arthur felt. The king wouldn’t have been surprised if Gwaine had gotten any more sleep than he had after yesterday's news, having taken Merlin’s continued absence badly. Disappearing from the council chambers in barely contained frustration and anger after Arthur had been presented with the scrap of cloth torn from Merlin’s jacket.

It was with a final roar of fury that the knight lifted his sword and brought it down on the wood with enough force to split it almost in two. Arthur approached further, drawing the attention of the panting Knight.

“Sire.” Gwaine greeted tersely, his usual good temper and joking manner noticeably absent. “how can I be of service?”

Arthur winced at the awkward formalities finding it strange to have the knight acting so out of sorts. Merlin's absence had hit them all hard. But his offer of help had Arthur realise he could do with some backup on his rescue mission.

“As a matter of fact you can. I am going to search the forest for Merlin and could do with an extra pair of eyes.” Gwaine’s entire demeanor shifted at his words, the forlorn expression giving way to determination, his eyes alight with the possibility of action.

“Say no more, I shall join you.” They both fell into step moving towards the stables in silence. If the stable hand was surprised to see the king and one of his knights so early or sloppily dressed he didn't comment and within minutes two horses were saddled. Arthur tossed the boy a few coins left in his trouser pockets for his prompt service before they left the stables.

Gwen was somehow waiting for them and they both stopped short in surprise at seeing her. She looked worried, the bruises under her eyes indicting her own difficulty sleeping.

She standing before them looking worried, arms ladened with food.

“I thought I would find you out here. I made you some breakfast, but I guess you will have to share it now.” Both knights perked up at the mention of food and she smiled at their eager expressions, handing the food to Arthur who had come forward to collect it.

“Thank you Gwen.” Arthur smiled softly back at her, gratefully for her help and support. She gripped his arm once the food had be handed off.

“Arthur, please be careful. I want Merlin back as much as you do, but please remember to take care of yourself.” She then turned to Gwaine. 

“Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid won't you?” Arthur sputtered in response while Gwaine let out a short bark of laughter.

“No promises my fair maiden, you know how hard it can be to keep an eye of him at every moment.” Gwaine’s good humor had returned with the promise of food and the chance at finding Merlin again. His voice then turned solemn, “but I will do my best to return him - and Merlin - to you in one piece.”

“That’s all I can ask. Good luck to you both.” Gwen waved her farewell as they mounted their horses and soon they were leaving the streets of Camelot far behind them.

 

**~ Morgana ~**

With the sound of Merlin’s screams ringing in her ears, Morgana left the hut in grim satisfaction but still shaking with rage at his words. That he could get under her skin in such a way while beaten and bound was infuriating, destroying her carefully constructed façade and refusing to break under her torture.

The ear she had cut so viciously from his head lay bloodied and still warm in her palm and she quickly wrapped it in a piece of Merlin’s bloodstained jacket ready to be planted for the patrols to find. She was sure Arthur would recognize its significance and would serve as a reminder of what she had in store for him.

.

It took her most of the morning to travel close enough to Camelot to plant the ear, placing it on a well used patrol path, making sure to present it obviously enough to make it unmissable. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent checking and resetting her traps and snares for food. There was enough for her to be able to survive another week if she rationed carefully. Gone were the days where her meals had been served to her three times a day, food hot and rich. But Morgana had long gotten used to the ache of hunger and the feel of her ribs through her skin. All her suffering would pay off once she finally had her throne and Arthur was dead at her feet. In the meantime she was content with her scrounged meals.

Pulling out her knife, Morgana caught sight of the dried blood she had forgotten to wipe off the blade from that morning. Her thoughts turned to the brutality of her own actions a strange feeling rising in her when she remembered the horrors she had inflicted upon someone she had previously called friend. The truth of the matter was that under her callous exterior the young innocent girl she had once been still existed - just barely - and she was horrified at causing such pain and suffering.

It took a while for her to realise that what she was feeling was guilt but as quick as the understanding came she ruthlessly crushed it. Anger filled her instead and she cut savagely into the rabbit, but a growl of frustration left her when her hands started to shake and the blood dripping onto her hands made her feel sick. Cursing her own weakness she gripped the knife harder until her knuckles turned white, gutting the rabbit with more force than necessary.

She knew by now that there was no going back on the path she had set down. Regrets and guilt would get her nowhere, especially when the only thing that kept her going was the thought of completing what Morgause had set out to achieve. A world where Sorcerers reigned supreme and would never had to cower in fear again. 

It was time to let the past die.

.

Arriving back at the hovel later that afternoon, Morgana pushed open the doorway to find Merlin unconscious and limp in his bonds. Dried blood coated the left side of his head and shoulder, the remains of his ear still weeping sluggishly. She approached him and gripped his face harshly to inspect her handy work again but was surprised that the boy failed to stir at her rough touch. Observing him critically she realized her actions might have been a tad reckless, risking him dying of blood loss before he had suffered in all the depraved ways she had concocted. It wouldn’t do for him to miss out of what she had planned for him tonight in any case.

Moving to her personal store of potions she selected a replenishing potion that with the right spell was supposed to help promote healing and restore energy. With practiced ease she uncorked the bottle and forced a little of the liquid down the unconscious boy’s throat and massaging until he swallowed reflexively. That done she gathered her magical strength, placing both hands on either side of Merlin’s head and willed her magic to heal with a few carefully pronounced words.

She had always found healing a tricky magical art to master. Morgause had told her it was because it required more control and finesse and when learning she had desired to learn magic of a more destructive nature. Preferring to be the one inflicting harm rather than healing it. Although when Morgause had been struck ill after their escape from Camelot she had dedicated most of her time to helping her sister recover and knew a few spells that with the potion would help Merlin recover enough to not be in any danger of dying.

She felt the rush of magic through her and could see the positive effects almost immediately. Colour returned to his previously ashy complexion and she saw that the majority of his wounds had scabbed over enough to reduce further bleed out but nothing so far as to have undone all her careful work.

Moments later Merlin's eyes struggled open and a pain filled gaze met her own. She felt a smirk tug at her lips as she surveyed the damage she had inflicted to his body, particularly the hand shaped mark that was seared into his chest.

He remained quiet and wary, a sign that she was making progress in breaking his spirit and hopefully quieting his tongue. She supposed cutting it off as well would solve any future arguments but it would deny her the pleasure of making him beg. And it was only a matter of time now...

Picking up her blade from the table she turned and approached her captive, enjoying the flinch when he saw the the blade in her hand. She gave into the urge to drag the tip over his other ear and despite his best attempts to not react she heard a small whimper escape him even as he bit into his lip to keep silent. As much as she wanted to play with him more, drag out the fun and torment him more, she was expecting company soon and couldn’t afford distraction. With a disappointed sigh she lifted the knife from his skin and sliced through the ropes above his hands, stepping back to avoid him crashing into her.

Oh she could hardly wait for him to see what the night had in store for him, excited at the prospect of what he would soon he suffering.

  
  


**~ Gwen ~**

It was with a heavy heart that Gwen watched Arthur and Gwaine return from their search for Merlin. The lack of the boy in question led her to consider the worst, tears gathering in her eyes at the implications of his continued absence.

Unable to stand another moment of grief she ran out to meet the two knights as they dismounted, needing to know what they had found and desperate for reassurance that Merlin could be still alive. She staggered to a stop in front of Arthur, barely catching her breath before demanding answers.

“What news do you have? Did you find anything? Any tracks, or signs or–”

Arthur met her eyes with his own and his expression made the words in her throat die. It was one of hopeless despair that she had last seen when his father had died.

“He’s alive.” Arthur spoke after a few moments of tense silence, his voice flat and empty, a complete contrast to the joy that such words should bring.

“But…that’s a good thing, right?” Gwen was confused that Arthur’s mood, feeling relief and hope bloom in her chest that Merlin was still alive and probably with Gaius right now being patched up.

“Did you drop him off at Gaius’? Is he badly hurt?” She prompted when neither man elaborated on his condition.

“We didn’t find him Gwen” Gwaine spoke when Arthur remained silent, his eyes downcast and fists clenched. “There was no body, no tracks, only…” The dark haired knight trailed off, expression pinched that did little to reassure her. Just as she was about to ask again Arthur spoke up.

“We found this.” Arthur lifted his right hand and opened his fist to reveal a bloodied scrap of cloth, larger than the one found previously and stained with fresh blood.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Sitting in the center of the blood soaked cloth was the mangled remains of an ear, the owner of which became obvious.

“Oh god!” Gwen felt like she might be sick, stumbling back in shock. Gwaine caught her arm gently to make sure she didn’t fall and she gratefully took his support as the true horror of what she was being shown sunk in. The urge to vomit rose within her and she fought to swallow down the bile at the back of her throat, closing her eyes to regain some semblance of composure. Thankfully by the time she opened them again the ear had been covered the hidden from sight.

“What do we do now? How do we find him?” She wasn’t sure how to remain hopeful for a happy ending with such stark evidence of Merlin’s suffering.

“He’s alive, that’s all that I care to focus on. I will find him.”

Gwaine stepped forward, face tight with anger, “ _ We _ will find him, and make the bastards suffer tenfold for every pain they have inflicted.”

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement of Gwaine’s vow and Gwen shuddered at the murderous expression that darkened both men's features. She didn’t envy the fate that would befall any that had been responsible but felt vicious satisfaction at the idea of them being brought to justice.

Gwen excused herself a few minutes later when the men left to gather the rest of the knights, talking intently on their plans to systematically search the forest in the hopes of finding Merlin and the ones responsible for his suffering. She wished there was something she could do to help with the search but she knew that Arthur would refuse any offers she made for her own safety, something that grated on her, but that did not mean she had to remain idle. She would do all she could to assist, even if that meant taking care of Arthur in Merlin’s absence, and praying for her friends speedy return.

_ Just hold on a bit longer Merlin, we are coming for you. _

 

 

**~ Merlin ~**

As soon as the ropes around his wrists were cut Merlin collapsed to the floor in a painful heap, lacking the necessary strength to keep himself upright. His abused body protested sharply against the hard impact on the blood-soaked ground and Merlin drew in short shaky breaths, forehead pressed to the filthy floor as he struggled to control the pain, overwhelmingly glad in that moment that he had fallen forward onto the floor rather than onto the bloody ruin of his back.

But his respite was short lived, as his head was pulled painfully upwards by a tight grip in his matted hair. Morgana’s sneering face looked down on him and she leaned in to talk.

“Don’t think I’m finished with you yet Merlin, I have something special prepared.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Merlin said halfheartedly, wincing when his response earned a vicious tug on his hair. He heard her mutter words of a spell and in the next moment Merlin found himself being pulled upright by an unseen force and suspended a few inches off the ground – limp and broken like a puppet with its strings cut.

He would have felt mortified at being forced into such a position if he hadn’t already endured so many other humiliations at Morgana’s hands. The woman in question brushed past him and lead the way through the small space of her house and out the door with Merlin floating a few meters behind her.

As they crossed the threshold Merlin lifted his head, squinting his sensitive eyes against the light but enjoying the feel of fresh air across his skin and breathing in the smell of the forest to replace the stench of his own blood that he had become more than accustomed to. The angle of the light told him it was nearing evening, shadows lengthening and he realized he had only been at Morgana’s mercy for two days. For all he had suffered it felt like two weeks and Merlin had to suppress the panic and fear that burned in his stomach at his own hopeless situation, hanging on to the hope that Arthur would send out patrols to search for him and hunt down Morgana.

A small structure came into view, even more dilapidated and run down than the main house. Morgana unlocked the door by pulling the heavy rusted bar back before levitated his body through the threshold. As soon as his whole body was inside the spell was canceled causing him to drop unceremoniously onto the ground, impacting heavily on his side before falling onto his ruined back. He let out a sharp cry of pain as the air was pushed from his lungs and pain stole his voice. Unconsciousness loomed as he struggled against the pain, feeling the need to remain alert in the face of what Morgana might do with him next. 

Instead he heard the sound of the wooden door creaking shut and the bar being pulled leaving him alone in the dark. 

When, after a minute, she didn’t return to inflict more pain he relaxed as much as was possible, breathing raggedly until the pain dulled enough for him to attempt moving.

He then dragged himself into a kneeling position, body shaking at the effort it had required and pain flaring up where he stretched abused muscles and the torn skin on his back. Hunger gnawed at him again and he tried his best to ignore it, groping around blindly with his hands to try and determine his surroundings while he waited for his eyes to adjust. But after a few minutes of staring blindly forward he realized Morgana must have somehow magically shrouded the room in darkness.

Despite his disastrous attempt earlier to access his magic Merlin tried again. Forcing it to sluggishly respond to his request and forming a tiny orb that flickered like an old candle. Feeling the drain on his already exhausted body Merlin quickly directed the light above him to get a view of his surroundings. 

He regretted his decision immediately, as the light threw into stark relief what the night had in store for him. Horror at the sight broke his concentration and the light spluttered out, plunging the room back into absolute darkness, made all the more suffocating now he knew what surrounded him. 

Paralysed in fear Merlin could only curl into a painful ball and pray for strength to make it through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe I am evil, it is true.
> 
> Cliffhangers are the most fun you can have as a writer so forgive me my petty enjoyments. Would love to hear what you guys thought of the chapter and your guesses on what is in store for poor Merlin. I am really enjoying putting him through the ringer...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please leave a review and tell me what you thought :) This is currently un-beated there will likely be some mistakes. If anyone is interested in Beta reading, let me know!
> 
> .
> 
> Come find me on **[tumblr](http://bloodamber.tumblr.com/)** or **[twitter](https://twitter.com/bloodamber26)** and geek out about stuff!


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